Both boys were exceedingly dirty. Faces, capless heads, fingers, clothes, all bore traces of the underground work from which they had just emerged. They had burrowed from their cave, and were mightily pleased at their point of exit. No place could be more secluded, nor less likely to be discovered. And from the ruined wall close by, under the shelter of a spreading elder, they were able to drop easily either into the cathedral yard or the Bishop's garden.
"Now the game begins. We've got a base of operations," said David grandly.
"How much?" asked Sandy.
"What you work from, and what you fall back upon, if you get besieged. And it's a good base too," he added, looking round. "We've got to make this passage hard and firm, and then hide it from that prying gardener."
"An' we can pay back Mrs. Lytchett," said Sandy with joy.
"How?"
"Oh, I know! She just hates us going to the Bishop's window. He told me he'd just got a new tin of gingerbread, an' now we can get in wivout goin' through the gate. She's made that gate so it clicks."
"But you mustn't let her see."
"Not me! If she comes, we'll just run round the house, and she'll fink we've come back way. And then she'll run round to catch us, an' we shan't be there."